


Baby Come Home

by HaleTheYoungbloodSinnerKilljoy30120



Series: Mini fics [4]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Death, Eating Disorders, Fuck this shit is gonna be sad, Gen, I am so sorry, Self Harm, Suicide, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaleTheYoungbloodSinnerKilljoy30120/pseuds/HaleTheYoungbloodSinnerKilljoy30120
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick dies and Pete thinks it's a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alive?

"Pete, I hate to be the one to tell you this," Joe says and pauses "but Patrick is. Dead.". He says it with tears forming in his blue eyes. No, that's impossible, he can't be dead. He isn't dead, I tell myself. He isn't dead. Tears fall from my eyes and Joe pulls me into a hug. No, no, no, no. This isn't right. He's not dead. He can't be dead. I'll see him tomorrow when I get back to Chicago. He. Isn't. Dead. I keep telling myself that this is just a bad dream. And I'll wake up soon with the warm body of Patrick squished up against me. He's alive. I know he's alive. This is just a nightmare.


	2. Perfect.

"Patrick! Patrick!!! Patrick!!!!!" I scream into my phone later that night. After Joe leaves and I am left alone. Why can't I just wake myself up? I need to wake myself up. Patrick, please wake me up. Tears are draining from my eyes as I scream his name over and over again, hoping somehow he can hear me. My mind is flooded with his voice. My ears ringing with the sound of sobs, not my sobs. The sobs of people who knew him. Loved him. Everyone loved him. How could anyone not love him? He was perfect, kind, beautiful. Everything I will never be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. It gets worse. My tumblr is @pancakestump30120 by the way.


	3. Wake Me Please.

I seclude myself. This is only a dream after all. It's the fiction created by my fucked up mind. He's still alive, he's probably trying to wake me up right now. He can see the tears on my pillow and my shaking body. He will wake me up soon. I just have to be patient. I feel a flush of warmth from the thought. Maybe he is holding me tightly right now. Maybe he is rocking me back and forth trying to calm me. He has to be alive. Nothing can warm me the way he does. I just want to crawl into his loving, warm soul and never leave. Please wake me up, Patrick.


	4. Answer damn it!

This is a dream, but it's very realistic. Too realistic. But it's still just a nightmare, so I don't eat, sleep, I don't do anything. I just sit and wait for him. He will wake me. I know he will. He knows when I'm in pain. He'll wake me; I don't have a single doubt. So, I sit there, don't move, don't do anything. Just think. All I can do is think since this is a dream. I pick up my phone and dial his number. "Patrick, please wake me up soon." I leave as the voicemail. "Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, please wake me up" I whisper repeatedly. God, Patrick, please wake me up, I'm nothing without you.


	5. Why?

Joe calls me. I don't answer, it doesn't matter if I do it's just a dream. Just a horrible dream, I tell myself every second. Is it possible to feel things in dreams? I can feel the hunger growing in my stomach and the pain of the cuts on my arms. They will both be gone when I wake up, though. They have to be gone when I wake up. None of this is real. IT'S NOT FUCKING REAL! But it feels so real. Why, why, why, why... Why does it feel so real if it's just a dream?


	6. "Light Em Up"

I ponder on the thought that if I die in this dream. I'll wake up. It could happen. I mean it would end the dream, right? I want to do this in a way I never would think to do it. I douse myself in gasoline and grab a box of matches. He's singing to me in my mind. That's my motivation, I need his voice to be real again. I light a match and go up in flames. I hear him singing. Don't worry, Patrick, I'm waking up.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry. Feel free to cry on my shoulder.


End file.
